


Penance

by PepperSpicedLatte



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Louis doesn't help, Other, Philippe's sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 11:39:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12432045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperSpicedLatte/pseuds/PepperSpicedLatte
Summary: ''It was consuming him now, the guilt of that time and Philippe vowed again and again that he would not be a part of any conspiracy against the crown. He would not dwell on such a path ever, though little did he know how much it surrounded him.Perhaps this was penance for his sins. Perhaps God was testing him, seeing how he acted under the heaviness of all these feelings, all this pressure that was weighing down on his soul.''Philippe prays for Louis' recovery, reliving past guilt's and realises that maybe he is not meant for forgiveness.Set in 1x07





	Penance

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys. This is just a random burst of muse that came to me earlier and I just had to write it. There's a mix of historical past and what happen's the show. I hope you enjoy.

Louis was dying. History was repeating itself. Louis was dying and there was nothing Philippe could do to stop it. 

The small, simple but elegant chapel which stood as a place of refuge for the King and the closest of his court, was silent. The air was stagnant and the rest of the world did not exist in the sacred room. It was not empty however as many would expect it to be with such a lack of sound. Philippe was kneeling at the altar – hands which clasped his mother’s old rosary rested upon the lace cloth and he forehead gently positioned upon his hands.

He did not know how long he had been praying, but his knees and the back of his neck had started to ache dully a while back. He had not been silent the whole time, voicing his prayers again and again until his throat had almost felt raw. Now however, he spoke them in his head, his hair falling around his face and hiding it from view as he pleaded again and again for his brother to survive. 

Philippe was not one to pray often outside of mass, but in the last few days he had resided in the chapel, it almost becoming his second home. The last time he had prayed this much was in the final days of his mother’s life and even now, the thoughts still made his hands quiver and tears prick at his eyes. He could not let Louis die. Not as their mother had done. He could not bear to think of his brother’s last moments, holding his hand as life seeped out of him. Philippe could not let that happen. He could not lose the one person who had created his entire existence. So, he prayed twice as long and hard as he had done for his mother. 

Loneliness was gripping at him tightly, invading his mind, grasping hard at his heart and making it so much harder to breathe. To think properly. No one close to him would understand. They hadn’t been there before, seeing him on his death bed being riddled by fever. They hadn’t seen him at his lowest point, crying out in pain. They hadn’t been crushed by the fear of losing him; a fear so heavy he had sobbed into his mother’s arms for hours unable to stop. The fear of losing Louis had always been engrained into Philippe but he had buried it so deep that only now and then would it surface. His life had been shaped to obey the King, to be by his side as long as he lived and if his brother died then what would his purpose be? 

Yet, there were fleeting thoughts that came to the surface of his mind. One’s he had tried to eradicate for so long but would always appear in desperate times. If the King died, he would have more power. He could show the court, the country who he was supposed to have been. He could gain everything that Louis, his mother and Mazarin had denied of him his whole life. And that reality had been so close last time, more so because if his brother had died then he would have become King himself. A conspiracy had been formed, one that after Louis had succumbed to his illness, a group of Philippe’s friends and followers would have marched in his name to apprehend Mazarin and give himself so much control. There had been letters delivered to him, ones that Philippe had read but had not entertained. He would not be a part of it - if it ever unfolded and yet, because he had kept the information to himself until it was discovered by Mazarin, had been a part of this conspiracy. 

Guilt had surrounded him after that, guilt that had turned into self-hatred for even entertaining the idea that he could ever overthrow his brother’s reign, or be dishonourable to him with these thoughts. He had deserved ever ill word Louis had spoken of him after that. He deserved all the pain for nearly becoming the traitorous brother they had all tried so hard to stop him from being. Even now at times the guilt riddled him senseless and he would do everything he could to belittle himself, to show Louis that he was no threat and that he would be his puppet forever. He mightn’t not agree with him from time to time, but in the end Philippe would always be loyal. 

It was consuming him now, the guilt of that time and Philippe vowed again and again that he would not be a part of any conspiracy against the crown. He would not dwell on such a path ever, though little did he know how much it surrounded him. 

Perhaps this was penance for his sins. Perhaps God was testing him, seeing how he acted under the heaviness of all these feelings, all this pressure that was weighing down on his soul.

At the sound of a distant door slamming and then multiple footfalls, Philippe raised his head from his prayers as one set of the footsteps caught his attention. It sounded too good to be true, a sound he did not expect to hear for some time, if ever again. The steps halted behind him, but the familiar sound of a shoe sliding made his heart jolt, a form of apprehension setting in. Turning around with hesitation it took Philippe a moment or two to believe what he was seeing. He could feel tears at his eyes and his lips twitched into a smile. 

‘’My god…’’ He breathed out as he took in the full spectacle that was his brother. Alive and well, right in front of him. He almost glowed as he stood there, free from the fever that had consumed him before. 

Rising to his feet, Philippe could feel a slight tremor in his body as he mind tried to catch up with what was happening. ‘’I was told you was dying.’’ 

He made his way towards his brother but stopped just short of the guards, uneasy that they were there with Louis, guarding him. Philippe’s mind jumped to what they were guarding him from. It was only the two of them here after all and surely Louis would not think that he would harm him. The atmosphere was growing tense, the air becoming more suffocating than it was before. 

‘’I was, but then I recovered.’’ Came Louis’ curt reply. 

‘’You did not think to tell me?’’ Confusion was starting to cloud his mind.

‘’I told no one.’’

This only baffled him more, but he kept his inner thoughts hidden along with every other emotion he was feeling right now. ‘’Why would you do that?’’

‘’To see on whom, I could truly depend.’’

There was silence for a moment as Philippe felt his heart drop into his stomach. Louis did not feel he could depend on him. After everything he had done and it still wasn’t enough. 

‘’You did not include me.’’ It came out more softly than when he had previously spoke, as though he was scared to utter the words that his brother would most certainly confirm. 

‘’I did not.’’ Louis seemed to calm and collected as he said that, as he always did. Except this time Philippe could not see past this face of his. He saw the King, not his brother. 

‘’You do not trust your own brother then?’’ It hurt to say, the tears still prominent in his eyes. Guilt was rearing its ugly head again, mixed in with the opening wound of Louis apparent distrust of him. Perhaps he had not paid his penance after all. 

‘’I do not trust the company he keeps.’’ 

The air shifted, became a little more hostile and Philippe took in a deep breath as though the wind had just been knocked out of him. Something wasn’t right. It wasn’t unusual for Louis to speak his distaste of the Chevalier, but in this current situation it was strange for that to be uttered if something hadn’t happened. But Philippe would defend him as much as he could. He always would. 

‘’The Chevalier may seem blithe and clip, but he has a backbone truly brother, I wish you saw what I do. He is a man of honour.’’ He believed what he said, through and through, but still he could feel a ball of anxiety inside him, growing larger by the second. 

‘’You are blind to his failings, and dumb to his faults.’’ This second blow only added to the first, and Philippe wondered if the situation was different if he’d be feeling every stab that Louis was aiming towards him. He shook his head at his brother’s words, though he could clearly see he would not win this battle. 

‘’Do not say such things…’’

Again, there was a moment of silence. Each one seemingly worse than the last. 

‘’A conspiracy in Paris was uncovered. The nobles plotting against me as I lay in my fever bed. The Chevalier is a ring leader. All of them will be arrested.’’

His heart jumped into his throat, lost for words as he tried to breathe, tried to comprehend what Louis had just said. He shook his head again, almost timidly as the ball of anxiety expanded and he could feel everything around him slowly dissolve. 

‘’Impossible. He’s no conspirator.’’ These words were whispered, almost scared to speak them. 

‘’Very true. He is a traitor, and will be treated as such.’’ 

And just like that, the world that had ever so briefly fixed itself back together, fell to pieces. As Louis left, Philippe felt his knees give way before him and he sunk to the floor with a sob. Was this his punishment for those acts so long ago? Would he forever be enveloped in sin because of the choices of a few? 

He had gained back one he loved, only to now lose another. Death wanted to take away those he cared most about. It wanted to leave him alone, to let him always be afraid of its shadow. He should have stopped him, should have realised what was going on and stopped the love of his life from making such a disastrous decision. It was his fault. His fault that this had happened and he wondered if in all his time of praying, God had been listening? Had he known what was coming and decided Philippe still had to pay for his sins? 

He would only be so lucky if one day, death consumed him instead of anyone else. 

But perhaps that was his punishment. To live whilst everyone else who surrounded him died. 

That and to have his brother forever see him as the traitor he could have become.


End file.
